Gemotions

A shiver ran down Oliver’s spine. The picture his nephew, Finn, had created was impossible. There, in all its glory, was Archibald. The grumpy, yet lovable, dragon that lived in the depths of his imagination. He could practically hear Archibald's low rumble of a voice. He felt a coldness spread through his chest.

His breathing became shallow. He had to resist the urge to drop the artwork. Oliver could only stare at the drawing, his mind struggling to comprehend what he was seeing. He rubbed his eyes, thinking he must be hallucinating. But the image was unwavering. He couldn’t look away.